I saw two films this week on the love between teenage daughter and father, focussing on the former. Yet in one, the father is entirely absent, although he makes his presence felt.
The films have very contrasting settings – a Brazilian hot seaside and cold American mountains; one family rich, the other poor; but both definitely in the arthouse camp.
Winter’s Bone is unfairly called a thriller, as it is too slow and has not enough plot drive. It is more of a study in… I pause – what is this film? If it had been on television, I would have switched over, and the only thing of interest is Ree. Few worded slow talking people don’t make much of a character to me, although they did manage to be touching at times. I am appalled by the chainsaw scene – which surely deserves to be higher than a 12 certificate – and nonplussed by its necessity. I would call it The Winter’s Bore and think many of the flattering reviews are copying each other.
Adrift’s characters were a little more loquacious, but the chief one was such a selfish child that she lost my interest. Does one reach an age where initial comings of age are no longer of interest? Perhaps if the story had focussed on the adults, I may have been able to connect more.
It was strange to be one of three people in the cinema – for a film locally shown only over Christmas. The couple apologised for spoiling my private view! Adrift deserves to be seen – more than Winter’s Boring and over Cooked Bone – but neither film stands out.